


And the Sky Turned Red

by icylook



Category: Noblesse (Manhwa)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Angels & Demons, Angst, Betrayal, Blood and Injury, Emotional Manipulation, Fallen Angels, Flashbacks, Gen, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, Reincarnation, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-29
Updated: 2020-08-31
Packaged: 2021-03-01 23:14:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 8
Words: 17,235
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23915164
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/icylook/pseuds/icylook
Summary: Angels bleed in gold.Demons bleed in red.Fallen angels shouldn't bleed at all.
Relationships: Cadis Etrama Di Raizel/M-21 (Noblesse)
Comments: 26
Kudos: 49





	1. Death

**Author's Note:**

> M is a demon, Raizel is a fallen angel. They are lovers, living peacefully together for decades.
> 
> Mind the warning and tags reading this, please. You'd probably cry :'D

Chaos.

It's complete chaos, a whirlwind of bloody scents, screams of rage and agony.

Angels bleed in gold.

Demons bleed in red.

M's drenched in gold, it sticks to his hair, armor, sword, the leather of his black wings dropping with it.

He's merciless when he impales the enemy nearest to him, roughly pushing them off his sword, deaf to their pathetic whimpers and sure demise, swiftly moving onto the next white-feathered foe. Weapons clash and M feels the burn of angel's strikes, has to work for it, keeping his focus on them until he finds an opening and seizes it, golden blood spraying his face and he licks his lips as his enemy crumbles upon his feet. 

It's chaos and they aren't done. Not one bit, as he sees more of them pouring from the portal in the sky. In one powerful movement of his wings he springs up and meets them head on, weapon close to his body until he's almost on the angel's face. They try to surround him, but he doesn't let them box him in, pushing his body and reflexes to their limits. They fall and he still stays in the air, feeling Raizel's energy near. He's fighting his own battles and M yearns to be with him, but M has to deal with the filth still coming from the portal. If only he could close it somehow...

In battle, time's stretching. Seconds feel like hours, hours are like years. M feels like he's fighting for a century, rage coursing in his veins, slowly but steadily replaced with fatigue. 

He goes through the motions, his weapon heavier than before, moves more sluggish and stiff. His hearing on one side is screwed up along with his wing after the impact of a fall. He won't go into the air, leathery wing broken and torn, useless weight on his back. It drags after him, dull pain spiking when it catches on something, with so many bodies laying around. It makes him lose his balance, but he still pushes on with a sneer on his lips and silver fire in his eyes. And when his sword gets stuck in one of the angels he abandons it there, clawing with a terrifying roar at the one swinging at him. 

It's mist of gold and feathers when he shreds them into pieces, frenzy growing in him, thirsty for the blood of his enemies. M spares a glance at the sky, at the pulse of Raizel's energy, his large black feathery wings stark contrast to the red sky.

Raizel's using his power to blast his enemies and even if they are far from each other, their eyes connect. Raizel briefly smiles at him before his face is pulled in a pained grimace. M sees one of the angels from the group surrounding Raizel pulling back, silhouette shimmering and _vanishing,_ as the rest of them gang on Raizel. He blasts them with a massive pulse of energy, knocking them down from the sky, and they fall in a mangled heap. 

On the ground, M breaths in relief, his own foes lying crumpled around him, golden blood slowly soaking into the earth. He smiles at Raizel, sharp teeth glinting in a wide grin even if his face hurts from bruises and cuts, body aching and ruthlessly signing to him about all his injuries. But they won, and he feels triumphant, just as Raizel does and he sees him turning, flying towards him, eyes locked with his.

There's a shimmer above Raizel and M isn't fast enough to warn him, to scream, to move, when the sword plunges in Raizel's back.

M can only watch as it pierces Raizel and comes from his chest, and Raizel's wings falter and he falls, falls down _again._

Fallen angel falls for the second time.

He's not fast enough with the useless weight at his back, legs feeling like lead and he can't do anything more to cushion Raizel's fall.

Raizel meets the earth with loud thud and short scream, so full of pain M feels it as his own. His heart stops then pounds hard in his chest, and he makes his way to the broken body, cursing at his crippled wing slowing him down when Raizel _needs him._

For one agonizing moment he's sure Raizel is _dead_ , but when he's close enough, he sees his head moving weakly, wheezing with short breaths. M falls on his knees, taking in the damage of Raizel's body. The sword is still there and M grits his teeth until his jaw hurts. What he sees makes him feel sick and so _helpless_ , because part of him knows he won't be able to heal him until the help arrives. But he pushes this thought away, reaching for Raizel's face with shaking hands, gently turning him towards his own.

Raizel's bloodied lips part with quiet pained moan, his closed eyes open slightly, crimson eyes foggy and full of distress, and M is angry, _furious_ and it builds in the fire in him until another whimper from Raizel's throat extinguishes it in a moment. He leans close, shuffling on his knees, broken wing catching on Raizel's unmoving legs and he hisses as sharp pain runs down his spine, greedily gulping on air to keep the scream in. Raizel weakly nuzzles into his hands, a faint whisper of his name leaving his lips and M's thumbs are gentle on his face, wiping off smears of gold. 

“I'll fix it, I promise, just don't move,” he silently begs Raizel, pouring what's left of his life force into the broken body under his hands, but he's met with resistance.

Raizel's _resisting_ him. 

He snaps his eyes to Raizel's, who's looking at him more clearly but still, his breaths come uneven and short and he coughs, dark gold blood staining his chin as he tries to speak.

“Raizel _don't-_ ”

But Raizel shakes his head, or tries to. “No.” M's eyes sting when he sees him trying to say more, “Shh, don't, don't speak, I promise I'll fix it, just let me help you, let me, _Raizel, let me,_ ” M babbles, placing one hand on Raizel's chest, near the sword sticking out. 

“It doesn't hurt anymore.” Raizel rasps in between coughs, and M's face feels hot, tears pricking at the corners of his eyes. Raizel's eyelids flutter close, “Home,” he whispers, “ _take me home, love._ ”

M's breath hitches, tears spilling, falling in heavy drops on Raizel's dirty black hair.

Angels raided their home, and M had no doubts about Raizel's backstabbing angel _brother_ being behind this, and he promises to tear the white wings straight out of his spine with his _own hands, all three pairs and he'd make it_ **_hurt_** _._

But now, now he has to focus on Raizel, who wants to talk to him, body broken beyond M's healing skills, beautiful black wings twisted, but still holding a smile for him, even if his bewitching face is too pale for comfort.

_Fallen angels bleed dark gold._

“Take me home,” he rasps and M's tears blurry his vision as he chokes, “I will, I will Raizel.”

Their home's burnt and destroyed. But it doesn't matter anymore. 

M curls fingers of the hand on Raizel's chest, holding onto material of his torn armor. 

And Raizel must feel him hesitating, “I want-, _home, M_ -” 

“Yes, shh, I will, _I-_ ” his voice cracks, “be calm,” he pushes his hand _in,_ Raizel's breath stuttering in painful grunt, M feeling his agony as his own and he holds Raizel's heart in his hand. 

_“It doesn't hurt, love.”_ M hears in his mind and he closes his fist with a sob, letting their energy mingle just as Raizel lets go. He feels him letting go, because now he can pour his essence _in_ and Raizel gives his _away_ to him, willingly and he absorbs it all, crying in anguish.

But he does as he promised and when he's done, he curls above Raizel's unmoving chest and _wails_ holding onto slowly disintegrating body, until he holds nothing but ash.

_My home is You._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you like to read and listen to music, I'm making a mini playlist for each chapter (of music I often listen to during writing).
> 
> (Violin music by) Eternal Eclipse - The Game Is Afoot and True Love's Last Kiss


	2. Enemy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The amount of reading about angels I did to put one or two names in there that would be right for characters is silly. And one shot turned into another multi-chaptered story ♡✧( ु•⌄• ) Again, mind the tags and enjoy!
> 
> Mini playlist for the chapter - Eternal Eclipse: The Last Funeral and  
> Dawn of Faith

Time is a tricky thing in Hell. 

Days mingle with nights, an unnatural rhythm brought to life by the Fallen Ruler of Hell. Some whispered Lucifer missed Heaven and wanted to brighten the darkness of the underworld with artificial light. 

After all he was a Bringer of Light in name, still proud but a Fallen, most likely a victim to Heaven's affairs. M never was interested in Heaven's business, beside an occasional scuffle with an angel here or there. 

Not until Raizel appeared in his life. 

Another falsely accused archangel, doomed to fall. Someone M came to love deeply, dearly, till the end of time.

For M time ended with Raizel passing away.

It doesn't matter how long he lies there, curled on his side. The pain of his beaten body isn't any lighter. He zones in and out of consciousness, throat dry, silver eyes dull. 

Unseeing. 

Any tears he had to spill, had run out and dried long ago. He doesn't have the strength anymore for anything more but mechanical work of his lungs. With every pull of air it gets heavier to breathe, the crushing feeling in his chest more firm with every ragged gulp. 

_Everything_ hurts, though all open injuries scabbed over somehow. 

He doesn't care. 

His good wing has gone numb from lying in dirt for days, unmoving, the other one, cruelly broken and torn in few places, is still stubbornly hurting with every beat of his heart. It gets weaker and he'd be glad when it'd stop altogether, shattered as it is already. M's hands are curled under his chin, weakly clawing at his sternum with ash stricken skin fingertips. He didn't leave the place where Raizel died, because he doesn't have a place to come back to. 

His home burnt, his home gone. 

He lies curled on his side, protecting what was left of the ashes from being scattered over the plane. 

Waiting for death. 

Waiting to see Raizel again. 

Where, he doesn't know. But he wants, he _wants_ so badly it hurts just as it hurt to help Raizel feel peace. There's nothing left but still a living shell of a demon. He's empty beside the bundle of pain and grief. 

Even rage had run out ages ago. 

In and out of feverish dreams, voices whispering, calling him over, his own screams drowned in the roar of many others. The silence so deafening it suffocates him, tendrils of purple smoke crawling over his filthy skin, his own ragged whisper begging for Raizel to come back.

Time is endless in Hell and waits for no one.

There's dirt before his eyes and _then_ there are clawed feet. 

Standing just before his face. Some demon came to finish him off, lethargic thought enters his mind and relief overcomes his senses and he sighs. 

He blinks when the demon just stands there, feeling their gaze on him. But he doesn't have the strength to look up, grimy strands of silver hair obscuring his vision, doesn't have the energy to brush them with his own hands. He can't move them anyway, because then what hold he has of the ashes would make them scatter. And he _can't_ have that.

“Get up.” A cold voice calls over him and it'd make him wary, if he'd care about it. But he doesn't, so he just lies there.

The feet shuffle back, as harsh hand tangles in his long hair, jerking his head up without care of his comfort. He winces, but he doesn't say anything staring ahead, until a pale face with two piercing, electric blue eyes enter his view.

“ _I_ _said get up_.” The demon hisses, mouth pulled in a snarl, sharp teeth on threatening display. The blond demon leans down over his crumbled form, easily holding him up. 

And when he still doesn't respond, the hand on his hair swiftly migrates to curl around his throat. Claws prickle his skin, but it doesn't matter. Being on the mercy of the other _doesn't matter._

M's hands still clutch at his sternum, but it gets harder to keep them there as his position changes and he doesn't have the power in his limbs anymore, so they fall down limply at his sides. What's left of the ashes slips between his fingers and he whimpers deep in his throat.

One broken wing is dragging on the ground as he's suspended in the air, the tips of his taloned feet barely touching the ground.

The demon squeezes his neck and he can't breathe, but he doesn't even bother with holding his arms up to defend himself, closing his eyes in defeat. 

“Pathetic.” The demon scoffs, pure disgust curling at the short word. Violent coughs shake him as he's unceremoniously dropped to the ground, landing on his bad wing, barely holding himself up with arms, that somehow worked on instinct and he doesn't smash his already bruised and bloodied face straight on rock.

He looks up briefly at the demon standing over him, towering over his huddled form. Black leathery wings neatly pulled back, taloned hands curled into loose fists, long light blonde hair spilled over his shoulders. The silver at the tips of curled black horns glints in the red light and M's eyes are once again pierced by the blue ones. 

Black sclera is easily making them more menacing. M always thought this particular demon had the talent to be nasty, even more towards him. He swallows before he tries to speak, but what comes out is an undignified creak. He coughs, until vertigo makes him drop his face onto the dirt, dust clogging his nose and throat and for a moment he's sure he'll choke to death like that, but then he's pulled up again, strong hands holding his shoulders firmly. 

Long fingers are clawing into the meat of his arms and he sits unevenly on his calves. Then, some sweet liquid is abruptly pushed past his lips and he spits it out, hacking, but a hand on his nape holds him still when the other covers his nose.

“You have to drink it, you pitiful creature,” the demon's crips voice says and he tries to spit it out again, just to piss him off, but the hand in his hair twists and his neck bends backwards, more liquid spilling inside. His throat works against M, busy with swallowing the sweet water, _potion,_ he's not sure what it is, but it nearly suffocates him. It burns his insides, but also cools him down, the aches numbed and far away.

He blinks the tears of pain from the corners of his eyes, the hand on his neck almost gentle now, the other one cradling his jaw in rough grip.

“Just like that.” It almost feels like the demon praises him and he sways, striking blue eyes a blur now and if not for the hands holding him, he'd land on the dirt. Again.

“Sleep. I'll take care of the rest.” Is the last thing he hears before his heavy eyelids close and he's out.

* * *

When he comes to, he's not sure he's alive. The dull pain from his left wing confirms he indeed _is_ alive. 

M stares at the dark wooden ceiling, groggily taking in on everything his body's sending him, the hole in his heart a void he'd never recover from. He shouldn't be alive, M thinks, slowly sitting up, so why is he? And _where_ is _there_? 

He looks around, just as he's done examining his bruised chest and arms, briefly glancing at left wing, dripped and... he brushes the visible stitches on the leather of the worst tear, going from the upper main-bone, the bone itself held in place with something that looks like silvery-grey _glue_. The tip of his finger gently taps on the hard surface and he flinches at the sudden voice at his back.

“Don't touch it, you'll ruin my work.”

M's shoulders stiffen on instinct because he knows that voice. He turns, and yes, it's Stein, standing in his pristine black and white clothes, gentle waves of light hair surrounding his beautiful face, though the look of contempt spoils the effect. It's always disdain with him when M's around. 

The feeling's mutual. M hates his bones with passion, some of it stirring in the pit of his stomach. 

“What am I doing here?” M growls, stormy dark eyes boring into Stein's.

Stein scoffs and flicks non-existent dust from his sleeve. “Simple, you owe me.”

For a moment fury takes over the burning grief. “I don't owe you _shit,_ ” M snaps, “you should let me die back there.”

Stein's look is full of utter disgust as he steps near the bed M's sitting on. “And I would let you do just that any other day, if not for one detail.”

M barks a mirthless laugh. “Your obsession with him is what made you save me? Why bother, when it's him _who's dead?_ ” He shouts the last words, voice wavering, the tips of his claws shredding the sheets under his hands.

Something akin to pain appears on Stein's face, but he schools his features quickly into his usual arrogant expression. 

“I won't let you rot out there until you'll do something to avenge him.”

M snorts, staring at his dirty hands. “And what stops me from finishing my life myself? You think I'm _grateful_ you pulled me up?” He snarls hands balling on fists on his thighs. “I'm not and I _hate you for it.”_

Stein looks at him like he's some piece of hell creature he'd like to exterminate on spot. “You owe me,” he sniffs, “and I'll use this for getting revenge for his death.”

M's freezes on spot. “What- no, _no,_ ” M mumbles, glaring at the other demon.

“I _don't_ owe you for saving my life, I didn't _want_ your help!” He cries out, springing to his feet and instantly regretting it, when vertigo takes over, and he uselessly waves his arms to hold onto something, almost crashing into a low table. His arms shake as he holds himself up, looking at stoic Stein from under his long fringe. “I didn't _wish_ to be saved, _no pact was made._ ”

Stein's brow goes up. “Really,” he drawls, “and here I thought you begged me to help you, _Mephisto._ ”

And cold, cold chill goes down M's spine as he starts to think that the feverish dreams weren't _just_ dreams.

* * *

Days later, when he's more lucid and ready to not strangle Stein every time he sees the demon, he bluntly asks.

“What's your deal, anyway. That you wanted him for yourself, that I know. That he never looked at you twice like that, I also know.” He mocks on purpose, because at the moment he's too weak physically to even think of attacking Stein and this is the only thing he can do. Jab and prod, put salt on Stein's open wound, just like he does to him all the time. To drown his own hopeless anguish.

Stein doesn't answer for a long time, working in silence on some shady concoction and M's sure he won't, just to spite him. But Stein surprises him once again. Bastard.

“Just as he helped you with ending the servitude to Lucifer, he helped me. Centuries ago.”

M's waiting for Stein to elaborate, but he doesn't, so he just sighs and busies himself with a series of push ups, then slowly uncurling his bad wing. He has the chance to be able to fly, for a short time for his last mission with few potion boosts, Stein said. 

Now, when he has a clear mind and target, he's determined. He wants the plan to work, because he vowed he'll do that, feast on the archangel's soul, crush his beating heart and show it to him, but after he'd tear his wings from his back, one by one. Raizel's brother or not, the archangel killed him when he promised to leave him, _them_ , alone. M knew never to trust angels, but Raizel was ready to do that. M silently suspected Raizel's brother was responsible for the scheme that resulted in accusing Raizel of treason towards Heaven and his Fall.

Familiar flame of rage slowly coils in his stomach, licking his veins and light silver flames appear at his fingertips, his own magic healing steadily, even if at snail's pace. Regularly consumed souls of the doomed should speed that.

When he looks up from his hand, Stein stares at his palm as well. Their eyes meet and for a long moment they don't speak, just look at each other, until Stein is first to break the silent contest. 

“I was hunted by the pack of angels, after I _might_ have trespassed,” he grimaces at the word, “the place they were currently stationed at for reasons not important right now.” He gives M a withering glare, when M's lips curl into a tiny smirk at Stein admitting a mistake, but he's otherwise silent.

“They did a number on me before I was able to slip and run for it.” He scowls. “Angels are nasty when they want to be and they call demons cruel.” 

Stein straightens, arms crossed at his chest and clears his throat. “Somehow, I ended in a mansion, one occupied by the archangel. Not that I knew it at the time.” His mouth twists in self-deprecating smirk. 

“I rushed into one of the rooms, _tripped_ and sprawled onto the floor, straight under his feet. A full glory of six blinding white wings at his back. I thought he'd smitten me on spot, when he looked down at me, but then something weird happened.” Stein's brows pull together. “He just _stared at me_ , my clothes torn, bleeding and dirty and he said, “ _Don't move.”_ I felt angel magic wash over me just as he called on his sword, pointing it at my throat and I was sure I'm dead.”

“But then, the band chasing me spilled into the room and just stood there. I didn't dare to move, because of the sword on my neck and because he _told_ me not to.” Stein huffs, shaking his head. “Then he cooly dismissed them, after telling them he killed me where I stood and said he'd like to know what the demon was doing here in the first place. I thought they'd shit themselves on the spot, the aura of their fear was so strong.” 

He clears his throat. “Raizel was threatening when he wanted to be. Still, it seemed he put some kind of illusion on my body and tricked them he got rid of me.”

“And then?” M finds himself asking.

“He let me go.”

“Just like that?”

Stein holds his gaze, blue eyes hard to read. “Just like that.”

And M believes him, even if he wouldn't want to, but he knows... _knew_ Raizel and how unpredictable he could be, when he wanted to. The persistent knot in his chest tightens when his focus slips to _him,_ another wave of sorrow threatening to overwhelm him. 

But Stein doesn't allow it, with few sharp words poking at his vulnerability, but not seizing the chance to truly bring him down. He's unyielding in his goal and M is aware of the fragility of their reluctant partnership, but any of their mutual hatred towards each other has to wait for after they're done.

And it'll take years, or decades, M thinks as he snaps out of his gloomy mood just to jab a few vicious words in Stein's direction. Years of planning, working on means to an end, waiting for the right occasion to strike. But he's ready for that now, as much as he loathes to admit, thanks to the demon that saved him and pulled him up from the brink of death.

M keeps his promises, and he knows this one will be the last he'll ever keep in his life. It's a one way road, taking the chance to kill an archangel, and so many things could go wrong. But he'll do it, with the help of his enemy and a _hope_ of a bit of peace in arms of death.

For Raizel.

For his Home. 


	3. Trickery

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Who missed this universe? (｡•̀ᴗ-)✧ I have to admit, the chapter sat longer in my drafts than it took to edit and post it. I feel it's more chaotic than I was aiming for, but still, I hope you'll enjoy it nevertheless.
> 
> Mini playlist for the chapter - Eternal Eclipse: Hidden Machinations and Shape of Lies

It's Stein's idea to go to Lucifer.

M's greatly surprised they actually got the audience without months of waiting. He has never paid attention to Stein's connections in the Hell's Palace, though as a former personal servant to the Ruler of Hell had the knowledge of demons involved in Hell's politics. When in service, M had to be aware of many things concerning favours, deals and debts. It made his job easier and pleased his Master. 

_Former Master_ , he reminds himself, as they near the giant ornate doors to the throne room, escorted by two guards. He tries to not show how much it costs him to appear calm and collected on the outside, when on the inside fear and anger battle for control. He doesn't want to be here, not when he vowed to never again step inside the palace. That's he's here, out of his own will, is ironic. 

Dangerous and ironic. 

There's a tang of blood on his tongue, as one of his fangs nick the inside of his lip. He should stop chewing on it if he doesn't want to bleed over Lucifer's precious carpets when he'll open his mouth to speak.

Speak freely to Lucifer. There were times when he could only dream about being so daring, as any attempt usually ended painfully. It was not his place to have an opinion then. If not for Raizel he'd still be here and-

He shakes his head and takes a deep breath, curling his slightly shaking fingers. He's here now and he'll face Lucifer as any free demon would. They're here for a reason, and M hopes it won't backfire. 

He glances at Stein, the demon walking beside him with chin held up and stiff back. M's not sure what is going in his head right now, but Stein was confident Lucifer _would_ lend them his hand in their plan. How exactly, M didn't know, but Stein didn't tell him much these days. Well, they weren't on best terms to start with and even if their alliance was forged on mutual agreement, their aversion to each other didn't just go away. Stein mostly kept to himself, spending days and nights either in his library or lab. M silently planned his own steps, slowly gaining his strength back. Though, after weeks of Stein holed in his research M cornered him and bluntly asked him about it. What he got was growled “I'm busy,” before Stein stormed off, outside this time, frantic glimmer in his electric blue eyes. 

It was clear to M that Stein started slipping into madness. Something that made his temper fly, something that he felt weirdly robbed of. If someone should spiral to insanity because of losing his light, it _should_ be him. Him, who was _loved_ and _left behind_ by Raizel, not someone who was pining from the side. And apparently doing more to avenge Raizel's death, and being smug about it. Silver flames licked his hands and only a great deal of self-control let him calm down. 

Though, the anger was quick to appear again the same night, when Stein stormed into his room, thrusting his hand just before his face as he let the object dangle before his eyes. M felt his breath catch, the sudden thunder of his heart almost making his head spin.

“Where did you get it?” M whispered, gaze locked on a silver necklace with stylized rose pendant.

“You're so ready to accept his death and not even seek for a memento of his?”

“You won't be telling me what I should do.” A snarl left M's throat just as he lunged for the necklace, Stein deftly stepping back in time M's fingers only brushed it. M narrowed his eyes. 

“Give it back.” He growled, muscles of his thighs coiling for a pounce. “It doesn't belong to you.” 

“It doesn't belong to you either.” Stein taunted, lips pulled in a hard line, but before M made a swipe at him, he threw the necklace at M. M almost didn't catch it, suddenly fumbling with his hands, glaring at Stein. He curled his fingers around the pendant, its hard edges cutting into the skin of his palm, but he refused to let it go, now that he had it in his grasp. It was Raizel's, and he silently cursed himself for not going after it earlier. That Stein had his hands on Raizel's necklace before him, was insulting. That he even knew _what_ and _where_ to look for, stung even more. 

Stein's gaze was venomous, his shoulders pulled up taut, like he was reading himself for a fight. He left heavy breath through his nose, briefly closing his eyes. M was watching him warily, shifting his stance. 

“The ashes, do you still have them?” Stein snapped at him, visibly holding himself back from... _what_ , M wasn't entirely sure. Strangling him, perhaps. Still, he bristled at the harsh tone. 

“Why?”

“Put them in the rose.” Stein gestured at M's fist with the necklace. “You'll be able to meld them with it. His...,” Stein swallowed heavily, “magic will allow _you_ to do it, even with you being demon.”

M's brows furrowed. “And why should I do that? Just because you told me to?” he was aware he's asking, because he was annoyed Stein got the idea he should have ages ago. 

Stein scowled. “Are you daft on purpose? Just put the ashes in the necklace and wear it.” The demon stood straighter, tilting his chin up. “Or do your _memory_ of him is so shallow you wouldn't do something so simple.”

And with the last look of utter disgust, he stormed out of the room. M growled in frustration, thinking to disobey Stein's words just to spite him. But deep down he longed to do what Stein told him to, and in the end he did. What he had left from the ashes he put into Raizel's old necklace, Raizel's old archangel magic so easy to mend with, whispers of it caressing his own that for a moment he felt like Raizel was here. It was a blink, a sigh of sensation and his heart clenched when it was gone, just as he put on the necklace, black rose in the middle of his chest.

And when they enter the vast and dark throne room, a cold shiver runs down M's spine. He can't shake off the growing feeling of dread. They bow before the Ruler of Hell, standing at the bottom of stairs. M tries to look anywhere but not directly at Lucifer. He hears Frankenstein recite the standard greeting, waiting for Lucifer's acknowledgment. M doesn't waste time with other pleasantries when they are granted permission to speak.

“He's gone.” M chokes quietly, glancing up.

Lucifer's face is blank. “I noticed.” He pauses, looking at them. “It’s hard to ignore a signature such as his to vanish. You were attacked, were you not?”

“You knew?” Suddenly, Lucifer's dispassionate stare makes the rage in his veins flare. He can't believe in what he's hearing.

 _“You knew and did nothing to stop them?”_ M takes a step closer and a hand on his arm stops him from getting closer, holding him in place like a rock. He stiffens under Frankenstein's claws holding him in harsh grip, wanting to break free to spit directly in Lucifer's face, to claw at him, so perfectly calm, looking down at him from his perch on the throne. Instead he growls. “He was- he _thought_ of you as a friend and you left him in the end?!”

His words echo in the chamber and silence answers him, for one long moment. The talons on M’s arm dig deeper.

“Are you done, Mephisto?” Lucifer's voice is cold, so _cold_ and M freezes in place, because he _knows_ this tone. It never brought anything good, the deceptive serenity of the Fallen, while fury simmered under his skin. It was when Lucifer was unnaturally still one should fear for their life. Centuries under his servitude to the Fallen taught M that. Lucifer's punishments, when he was displeased, were the most wicked when he was in the mood. M tries to suppress a shiver Lucifer's gaze brings and fails. He'd never be able to be truly free of the power above him, though being with Raizel helped greatly with gaining his independence. 

Raizel. 

M holds onto the name, the person behind it, just to stop quivering before the powerful waves of cool anger of the Fallen.

“I see you forgot yourself here. Maybe a little reminder would help you with regaining your manners when you dare to speak to your betters, hmm?”

A soft gasp behind M and fingers digging into his arm loosen and he can shake the hold completely, though he stills, because the feeling of raising danger tells him to do so. There's a predator here and he foolishly let his temper make him the target. Though he doesn't regret his words and forces himself to say so, even if his throat clamps down under the crisp golden stare. 

And Lucifer doesn't move, just looking at him and M breaks his gaze off the Fallen, tilting his head down as he slowly, _oh so slowly,_ goes down to one knee, bowing down before his former Master. It's something he knows he should do to hope for Lucifer's favour, to hope for placating the Fallen even a little bit. In rare times in the past it even worked, when M's mouth or action brought him wrath of his Master. He feels Stein's indecision as he shifts beside him, not sure what to do, but a soft whoosh of Stein's wings tells him he kneels as well, mimicking his position.

“Forgive me, my Lord.” Unused words spill from his mouth easily, like they used to in the past. For one horrific moment he feels like life with Raizel never happened, like he always was here, at his knees asking for forgiveness, mercy, back bowing, silently praying for Lucifer's wrath to be temporary this time. 

He was a cruel lord, but usually fair. At times, his justice meant pain. Lucifer believed it's the best counter measurement for mistakes. 

_“It makes you think twice before you do it again,”_ he used to say. 

Something that was drilled deep into M's soul and sometimes he felt it in his bones. Literally. Punishments were tough, but the occasional rewards sweetened his servitude. M rarely made mistakes worthy of spending weeks in Lucifer's chambers as he told and showed M what exactly he did wrong and why he shouldn't do it again. It was the soft and calm that M came to fear the most at that time, because it gave the illusion of peace, when it was the opposite of that. It hurt worse when his mind was lulled into false safety, not so silently craving the sweet peace. Lucifer liked hearing his begging as well as pleas for forgiveness, along with admitting his wrong doings. 

The soft touch on his bruised skin was both something he came to crave and fear back then and it made him flinch every time _Raizel_ touched him gently, until he learnt Raizel wouldn't touch him _to harm_ him. Old habits could be buried.

 _Raizel, Raizel, Raizel,_ M's mind loops the name, it was Raizel who asked for M's servitude to end. It was Raizel who took him from Lucifer, who ended the centuries of his debt. He never told M what he did that made Lucifer agree to let him go, and in a way M didn't want to know. Grateful. He was able to leave the palace and live with someone to whom he mattered.

It's the thought of Raizel that pushes the words past his mouth, stubborn and risky. He's doing it for Raizel and what does he have to lose? Nothing, nothing anymore so he spits the words even if they'd have to cost him his life.

“Forgive me, my Lord.” M repeats staring at the floor until he slowly looks up at the silhouette on the throne, gaze bold. “Raizel was your friend and if you knew of the attack, it was your indecision that killed him as well.”

M doesn't think to pause, words spilling before his courage leaves him, he has to say it _now_ or he won't have a second chance, even if it almost comes out as a jumbled mess. “Angel ambush of this scale on _your_ land couldn't come unnoticed and it went for hours, yet no one came to our aid. I am aware of-”

He wants to say more, secretly proud of his voice not wavering as his heart hammers in his chest, but the rest of the words still on his tongue as he stares at Lucifer, the Fallen shifting on his throne leaning forward.

Standing up. 

Majestic six black wings unfurl at his back and he starts to walk, piercing golden gaze unmoving from M's face, lips pursed in tight line. M swallows with difficulty as the Fallen nears, feeling Stein beside him shift slightly, but otherwise not moving, unusually silent. Quietly, M admires Stein's self-surviving skills, cursing his agreement of going along with the idea of asking _Lucifer_ for help.

Silence is stretching, the sound of Lucifer's measured steps bounce over the chamber.

“One comes to wonder how you didn't die as well.” Lucifer's claws gently come to rest on M's chin and he tilts it up, guided by the razor tipped talons barely touching his skin. M tips his head up willingly, mindful of the danger so near his throat. Lucifer looks at him as in curiosity, golden gaze searching. 

“And what is it that you want to do now?”

M's words are stuck in his throat under the hypnotic gaze.

“Revenge,” he croaks, “I want-”, he licks his dry lips, every word a bit louder and more sure, “I want the one responsible to pay for what he did.”

Lucifer's gaze flickers to his side then rests at M's face again.

“You want to take on an archangel.” 

“Yes.”

“What do you want to accomplish coming here? My aid in doing so?” Lucifer closes his eyes briefly with amused huff. “Open war with Heaven?” M's chilled by the look in his eyes when he opens them. “I am not in the mood for jests, Mephisto.” 

Part of his hair spills from his shoulder as he leans down, a curtain of silky obsidian strands blocking the view from his side. M's muscles stiffen to keep still under Lucifer's deceptively soft caress, light fingers cupping his jaw. M's teeth nearly grind on themselves with the pressure he keeps his mouth closed, but he doesn't look away from Lucifer's eyes. 

He can't look away. 

For Raizel. 

“Your impertinence was something that always brought you trouble and yet,” Lucifer's thumb hovers above M's lips, voice low, the mesmerizing beauty of the Fallen up so close almost making him sway with the promise of sweet, sweet touch upon his skin, and M blinks through the fog veiling his mind. Lucifer's subtle allure is prodding at his aura, like gentle hands holding him.

“You were always my favourite, speaking, acting before you thought. Refreshing.” 

“You didn't constantly cover in fear like a lot of them.” The words bring M back, his brows furrowing at the serene and quick smile on Lucifer's face, before it vanishes. He doesn't move when Lucifer's hand cups his jaw in more harsh grip, tugging him up, forcing M up to stand closely with him, still looking down at M. 

Hand lightly curled at his throat now. “My favourite servant.” He murmurs, golden eyes unreadable, the fingers on M's skin bringing the cold shiver down his spine, something that he can't hide under Lucifer's hands and his heavy gaze. 

He was never able to. 

Lucifer tilts his head, shadow of lazy smile pulling at his lips. “And my dear friend comes one day and says he wants you to himself. Has he ever told you what deal we made back then?” He purrs leaning back a little, “No?”

Lucifer pauses, waiting for an answer and M shakes his head. 

“He hasn't. How tragic.” The hand on M's throat tightens for a moment, Lucifer's tone flat. “And here I-”, he stops, exhaling through his nose. “It doesn't matter, you'll be willing in time.”

“You,” he says to Stein still kneeling on the floor, “you're dismissed. Speak with Mammon about your reward.”

“Yes my lord,” Stein stands up, “thank you my lord.” The blond demon bows deeply. 

M freezes, “What-”

_Betrayal._

He wants to claw at Stein's face, electric blue eyes looking at him without remorse.

 _“You-”_ he roars, leaping at Stein, but the hand on his throat stops him and he mindlessly tears at it, not thinking about what he's doing, the red he's seeing blinding him just as the thunder of blood in his ears. 

_“I'll kill you,”_ he wheezes, jerking in the hard grasp, _“KILL YOU!”_

He wants to move, wants to shred the skin under his claws, _breaking every little bone in Stein's body-_

A sweet smell hits his nose just as the pain behind his eyes makes him shout.

There's flutter of movement, Lucifer's voice like underwater and he squints at him, a smear of dark golden blood on his arm when M’s talons clawed at him in the burst of rage and power, but the wound is already closed and the hold on M's throat brings the dancing black spots to his vision. M tries to break free, hands uselessly clawing at the one holding him, cruel golden eyes staring at him, sudden bursts of light making him blind again and he falls to his knees.

Gasping under heavy weight at his neck, something he thought he would never again feel under his trembling fingers as they come to contact with unyielding metal and he nearly sobs in despair, in his desperation to take it off, to claw it off his skin, but it's hopeless. 

He looks up at Lucifer, with broken _“Why?”_

Lucifer looks at him with something akin to pity, though it's gone as quickly, when a small pleasant smile appears on his face.

“That, _Mephisto_ ,” he says his name as a caress and M shivers violently not in pleasure, but repulsed, “was the deal. With Raizel gone, you come back to me. As long as he lived, you could pretend to play house with him.”

“Now stand up.” He stumbles to his feet, command heavy under his skin, one he can't resist it. “We have a lot of catching up to do.”


	4. Stein p.1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I should stop planning the number of chapters. It's always more than I thought would be ((⚆·̫⚆‧̣̥̇ )) 
> 
> Stein's pov in this and next one, because I cut the chapter in two. I hope you'll have fun with seeing his side of the story Ψ(ﾟ∀ﾟ)Ψ
> 
> Chapter mini playlist: Eternal Eclipse - Yearning Hearts and Autumn Moon

1.

The floor's cool under his squished cheek. His heart pounds in his chest so hard it hurts and he's sure _they_ can hear it. Surely it'll be only a moment when they'd call off the bluff and kill him for real. Demon corpses don't have working hearts, after all, and he currently, unwillingly, poses as one. Stein tenses at a sudden bark of commands above him, silently praying no one noticed his jerk at the unexpected noise. Then he remembers he's under archangel's illusion and slowly looks up as said archangel calls him to do so. 

Crimson red eyes look at him steadily, a shadow of a smile playing on the archangel's lips. Stein fights to close his own mouth, slack jawed and suddenly _very_ nervous.

They're alone in the room. 

“You can stand up.” The archangel says and steps back, waiting for Stein to get off of his sprawl on the floor. He does as he's told, though he can't keep himself from throwing suspicious glances at the archangel, at the entrance, all around the room. Stein's aware he wouldn't be able to get a scratch on the archangel if he'd have to defend himself, but he wouldn't be a cowering plaything for one. 

Even if he's a stunning one. 

Stein shuffles to his feet, slightly hunched, shoulders squared. Prepared in case he'd have to make a sudden move. 

The archangel just stares at him, then turns his back to Stein. The display makes Stein tense even more, uneasiness growing and mixing with the hot anger burning low in the pit of his stomach. 

That the archangel turns his winged back on him is humiliating. 

He doesn't see Stein as a threat. Doesn't think of him as one. He grits his teeth, barely keeping the challenging growl in.

“I believe south of the mansion's perimeter is lax in guards at this moment. It could be a chance for one clever enough to slip by.”

Stein isn't sure he heard right. Is this how the archangel wants to play with him? Tell him he's free to go, even inform him of a place with less patrols? Surely he can't be serious. Surely he does that to hunt him down and kill in public. To make an example of. He scowls at the archangel's back in silence, long enough that he glances at him over his shoulder with an arched brow.

“You're letting me go just like that.”

The archangel nods slightly, shifting to turn towards him again. “Just like that.”

Stein scoffs, “And what's the catch? You're going to make a bloody example of me for everybody to see? A bit counterproductive, with the little charade you put off here,” he gestures at himself and floor.

“Your subordinates would see you as a liar, and angels don't lie, do they?” Stein's smile is venomous, eyes narrowed. He's not sure why he keeps talking, provoking the archangel. It seems it doesn't work anyway, the calm look of those red eyes trying to pull him in. His back straightens so fast it audibly cracks, when the archangel moves, Stein's claws elongating and he stumbles a step back. The archangel keeps going, and Stein hisses in warning, but he goes around him and stops at the entrance. 

“Do what you like. But if you decide to take my advice, try not to alarm the others. I can't give you my word they won't attack you.” The archangel's smile is so small Stein could blink and miss it. “I have a feeling I'll be meeting you again.” And with a small nod he's gone. 

Stein's rooted in place, confused, until a shout of “Legati Raizel, the reports you asked about-” coming from the corridor shakes him out of his stupor.

And after a moment of thinking, he knows he'll risk the way out the archangel, _Raizel_ , suggested.

2.

It's not so bizzare for the news and gossip to travel fast in Hell. Especially when they concern the balance of power of those at the top.

The Hell was buzzing with the most fresh information - there's a new Fallen.

Stein's on his way to the palace with the results of his latest commission, using the garden's shortcut, when he sees _him._ His step falters, usually elegant gait momentarily forgotten and he's busy gawking at _his_ silhouette. 

Short black hair gently framing his pale face, crimson eyes, tall and graceful with slope of his powerful _black_ wings at his back... Stein has to look twice to make sure they're black. He remembers them being white, nearly blinding if one looked at the soft feathers for too long.

He _would_ stare for much longer, if not for the palace's servant meeting him halfway and urging him to hurry, as their master awaits Stein.

Stein barely stops himself from snapping at the servant and he turns to follow with a grumble under his breath, but not before he glances back at _him_ , standing among the jasmine bushes. 

He nearly trips when crimson eyes lock with his own and a pleasant shiver sneaks down his spine, to the tips of his wings, making them flutter.

Something warm takes roots in his chest and slowly starts to bloom.

3.

It takes nearly two decades for Stein to start a tentative companionship with the Fallen. Regular visits to the palace gave Stein a lot of opportunity to cross paths with Raizel, Lucifer's official guest. Some rumors called them close friends, knowing each other from before.

The lab is cluttered with lots of various things, shelves full of jars and boxes all neatly arranged and labelled. The workspace is clean and available whenever Stein needs it. He's proud of his space and enjoys the times when Raizel visits him here. Sometimes, it's just Stein's ramble to fill the silence, talking about his newest project or experiment and Raizel listening, asking questions if the topic interests him or just _being_ there. 

Sometimes, Stein feels like he's too much – talking too much, showing too much, but he can't help it. He has Raizel's attention and he wants to bask in it. 

Raizel's focus on him makes him lighter, gives him the energy to do more just to impress him somehow. Often, he finds himself preening under the appreciative crimson gaze or when Raizel asks him about the results of long forgotten projects of his. That Raizel pays attention and remembers the things Stein says means _so much._

The time and attention Raizel gives him are precious and Stein cherishes them dearly. He'd pay in blood and limb if it'd be the cost of having Raizel all to himself. Though, he's not sure Raizel would like the sacrifice.

One day he's busy with taking down the notes on one of his many running projects when Raizel's aura appears near Stein's home. A spike of excitement in his gut has him grinning and rushing to greet him, putting down the object he was studying intently on the table.

Moments later he's offering Raizel some refreshments while the Fallen makes himself comfortable in his usual armchair. Raizel politely says his thanks for the tea Stein serves at record speed and asks him about his work, glancing around the lab. His hand freezes, the teacup barely touching his lips as he's looking at the crystal Stein abandoned without much care while he went to answer the knock on his doors.

“Where did you get it?” Raizel asks softly, placing the cup back at the saucer and standing up. He gets to the table and reaches towards the crystal, tips of his fingers hovering near the yellowish surface. Stein shifts towards him, cut off in the mid sentence by Raizel's question.

He hesitates before answering, watching Raizel closely, as he touches the crystal and brings it up for closer inspection. “I got it years ago.”

Raizel's brow goes up as he glances at him for a moment, before he's focused at the crystal again. “You _stole_ it, you mean.”

Involuntarily, Sten's wings span a little wider, and he clears his throat, mentally brushing away the sting of Raizel's words. Well, he _did steal_ it, but it's his now. Raizel tilts his head at him when the silence stretches and he huffs in amusement at Stein's slight scowl.

“So this is what you were after.” Raizel puts the crystal down and Stein sees something gold swirling in it before it vanishes to it's normal colour. “No one reported anything of the supplies missing. Did you take only one?”

Stein nods. “Couldn't risk getting tangled in some angel curse if I took more than one.” He grins. “I could hide one much better anyway. And it seems you weren't told much, if you weren't told your precious crystals are unaccounted for.”

Stein's eyes widen when Raizel barks a short laugh, the sound so unusual and rare, that it has Stein slightly dazed. For a moment Raizel looks so different, the fleeting mirth lighting his usually stoic expression, the glint in his eyes brightening, the line of his smiling lips the most beautiful sight Stein would easily _kill_ to see more often. The constant warmth in his chest spreads so rapidly it nearly chokes him and he _wants._

Wants so badly, it slowly starts to consume him. He stares hungrily at Raizel, committing to memory every line and gesture, every little flutter of his wings and shift of his body. His fingers itch to touch, to run his talons in the black feathers, to get close enough to feel the heat and softness of Raizel's skin, to feel the answering touch back, the alluring gaze on him, _only_ him, only _for_ him and he feels himself falling for Raizel. 

He had fallen a long time ago.

Raizel doesn't seem to notice any of Stein's weird behaviour and shakes his head, eyeing the crystal. “You're aware it's useless to you? Demons can't tap into it like angels do,” his brows furrow, “it will hurt you if you'll try to use it as it's designed to be used.”

“I know. I've been studying it for some time now. Some of the experiments backfired.”

Raizel just gently shakes his head with a hint of a smile. “I guess it can't be helped. You're a curious one. But I wonder, how did you even get the information about soul crystals?”

Stein bites his lip, a hint of colour on his cheeks. “Well, I didn't _exactly_ know what I'm taking when I saw it. It just lied there, so I thought I couldn't break in and go with empty hands. Besides,” he shrugs, “there was an entire box of these crystals. Prepared much?”

Raizel's gaze is unreadable. “No one really knows when they would be needed. I always wished for them to stay empty, but...” He sighs, the line of his wings dropping a bit and Stein can nearly taste Raizel's sorrow.

“What I wish for isn't always what I get.” Raizel's hand briefly clenches around the fabric on his chest, part of the chain of his silver necklace visible under the collar of his ornate black shirt.

Stein swallows heavily, the question at the tip of his tongue, the one he wanted to ask for some time, the offer he'd like to voice more than anything else. He opens his mouth to speak, but he changes his mind at Raizel’s expression. The slightly pained grimace on his serene face, the down pull of his brow and faraway look in his eyes. 

“Why didn't you kill me back then?”

The slightly rushed question has Raizel startling from his thoughts, his gaze suddenly so penetrating it makes Stein hold in his breath.

“You're important.” Raizel simply says, crimson eyes not leaving Stein's, the black of Raizel's sclera making them so much more striking. So different than his angelic ones, yet the _same._ Stein finds himself smiling at Raizel's words and the emotion in him swirls and soars.

4.

“I want you to meet someone.” Raizel says and it makes something in Stein's chest freeze, the sickening feeling of betrayal spreading the ice in his veins. 

And it's the hate at first sight when he sees him beside Raizel. 

No, it isn't like he doesn't know the demon completely. He's aware of Lucifer's favourite servant as they crossed their ways on occasion, when Stein worked for the palace. More often than not, if Stein was commissioned by Lucifer, it was Mephisto with whom he talked. So, he knew the demon and knew of his aloof ways, of his _stay-away-or-else_ demeanor. That it was him who caught Raizel's attention is... severely disappointing and Stein tries, _tries_ so hard to keep all the conflicting emotions inside. 

He wants Raizel for himself only.

He doesn't want Raizel to be with _anyone else._

But Raizel has chosen, and it isn't Stein. He swallows whatever bitter words want to be blurted out and puts on a false smile, already plotting the ways of ruining Mephisto for Raizel.

He won't leave it as it is now.

Raizel will be his. And the other demon will regret ever standing in Stein's way.

5.

“You're lonely, aren't you.” Raizel says one day, spending his time at Stein's lab. 

_Visiting a friend_ , he says. 

Stein grits his teeth, shoulders hunching, wings kept close to his body. Tight. Closed off. His movements are unusually stiff. He's not really in the mood for guests, but it's Raizel. He's afraid that, if he once says no, he'll stop visiting him and whatever scraps Stein has now, would be gone too. 

Because it's Mephisto who is the one living with Raizel. On the edge of Hell’s territory, where it took them years to claw into the area, fight for the right of it. To establish their own dominion. Raizel had fun with it, Stein knows it, because he learnt to read the slight signs. He doesn’t have to talk much, but Stein sees when he's excited about something. And he was excited about craving his own place in Hell with Mephisto at his side.

So, the visits to his lab got far and between, something Stein started to miss more than he thought he would. He tries to swarm himself with work, tries to shut off the thoughts of _what ifs_ and _why not me_ , buries himself in research and experiments. He has a lot to uncover when it comes to so many things and he shouldn't let himself to be so tangled with the matter of his heart. But, can he really help it, when it calls for the one he can't really have? And he suffers in silence, most of the time, but isn't that much pleasant for the object of Raizel's affections, when they meet by chance. 

Raizel's aware of the animosity and disapproves of it, but he has never interfered beside few words of reprimand for both of them. 

Mephisto and Stein would _never_ be friends. They can barely tolerate each other when in one area and it's only because Raizel asked them to be civil in his presence. Mephisto is wary of Stein and Raizel’s friendship with Stein, though he isn't openly jealous of it.

No, he's smug about his relationship with Raizel and the trust he puts in the Fallen.

Sometimes Stein wishes the worst for Mephisto, toying with fantasies of Lucifer calling off their deal with Raizel and simply taking him back to the palace.

Of Mephisto vanishing from Raizel's side and Stein taking his rightful place. Oh, he's aware of the deal between both Fallen, as Raizel confided in him when he asked how it all happened. Stein is sure he's aware of many more secrets Mephisto doesn't _even_ think exist and the feeling of superiority helps him feel a bit better about his situation. 

Until the temporary rush vanishes and he's the only one again. Battling with his thoughts. Dismissing his doubts, but not before he takes his time with wallowing in self-pity.

So, mostly he watches from afar how Raizel's relationship unravels and blooms. 

And hates every moment of Mephisto's happiness.

“ _You're lonely, aren't you.”_

Raizel's words are spot on. Stein restrains himself from snapping at him, because yes, he is alone, because he chose so. But he isn't lonely, not when he has so much to do, to uncover, to show-

His hands still over the row of potion bottles when the thought hits him. 

He is lonely when Raizel isn't close by. 

Somehow, it irritates him to no end and the glass breaks when his fingers curl too tight on the bottleneck. He just stares at the blood leaking from his injured palm, face blank and he can't find the strength to put on a friendly expression, even fake one, to assure him he's fine when Raizel stands by his side to inspect the damage.

Sten can't help the flinch when Raizel reaches for his hand. He steps back, not looking at Raizel's face, curling his hand near his chest.

“I think you should leave.” 

“Stein, let me see-”

“It's just a scratch, you don't need to bother yourself with it. I'm fine,” he risks glancing up at Raizel and what he sees in his eyes is like a punch into the gut. 

_Understanding._

Raizel knows. He _knows_ and he still-

He doesn't need his pity. 

Stein makes an effort to not lash out at Raizel and convince him he's already healing. And after his guest is out of his home, Stein uses few of his personalized crystals to open up a portal. He's restless, the anger burning in his veins like acid, eating at his carefully created shields. He needs to kill something. He needs to feel like he's in control and when to test it better if not in battle. 

Stein steps into the portal as soon as it opens fully, talons itching for blood, low growl stuck in his chest.

To be pitied by someone he loves is his own personal hell.


	5. Stein p.2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Second part of what goes in Stein's head - hopefully it'll bring some more light to his motivation. °˖✧◝(⁰▿⁰)◜✧˖°
> 
> Mini playlist for chapter: Eternal Eclipse - Reach and Fate of the Clockmaker

6.

Occasionally, Stein studies the power surges in angel crystal and diligently notes down his observations. Only angels can use them properly and Raizel once told him they're used as a storage of angel's essence, if they fall in battle. 

_ “To keep it for the future, if our creator ever decides to use them again and give them a new body”.  _

Demons can only dream of such things, though Stein works hard to remedy that. He's sure he's able to recreate the similar effect for demon souls.

7.

A wail so loud suddenly echoes in his mind, he doubles over with a pained moan, clutching at his head with both hands, falling to his knees as he's busy catching his breath through blinding pain.

It's-

It's  _ impossible- _

The sound is so distorted, but it's a scream, a scream of such pure despair it bleeds over into Stein's own soul.

And he _ knows. _

But he doesn't _ believe _ it.

Shakily, he stands up and some of the objects tumble down onto the floor when he frantically looks for the right crystal, hands trembling, when he draws the lines in air murmuring the spell with a hissed breath.

He rushes through the portal and first what hits him is the smell of fire and blood-

He can't see Raizel. He can't _ feel _ Raizel. 

Stein's shaking and there's a raw cold hole in his chest where his heart used to be and the bitter taste of anguish crushing his throat, keeping his own scream tightly concealed. 

8.

It hurts so much he doesn't know what to do. Every hour is a reminder of his failure, of  _ Mephisto's _ failure in keeping Raizel alive. He barely restraints himself from ending the other demon, weakened and pathetic. Stein found him on the battlefield, broken and on the verge of death and for a moment he wanted to leave him there and rot in his inevitable demise. 

_ Raizel was dead because of him. _

Mephisto couldn't defend Raizel like he should have, so he deserved to perish as well. Stein knew Mephisto was too weak to call himself Raizel's partner, but to be  _ right _ shredded his heart to pieces. And when he had his hand harshly curled around M's throat, he longed to crush it just to feel something else than the void in his chest, to mute the cold open chasm with a fleeting moment of twisted satisfaction. 

But he couldn't. 

Stein was summoned by M, be it by chance or by fate. He could not mean calling for him, but Stein was here and he'd be forever damned if he wouldn't give Raizel proper revenge. So, in the end he collected barely alive M, took care of his wounds and endured his presence in his home. 

And planned. 

For Raizel.

9.

What he stumbles on, after weeks of thinking and working himself to the bone, is as simple and brilliant as dangerous and uncertain. 

The beginnings of a plan that starts forming after the initial idea have too many questions and moving pieces. So many things could go wrong, out of his control and Stein is a scientist who likes to test his hypothesis with an oversight. Here, he'd be blind and will not have the chance to correct or push the moving cogs whenever they'd have to be fixed. 

He thinks it over so many times, from so many perspectives, he's not sure what's real and what's his imagination anymore. He doesn't rest, pushing himself to his limits for so long it's a miracle he doesn't collapse. Stein's buried deep in his research, notes, books and scrolls lying about everywhere. It's the steely determination that keeps him going, even when the potions don't help anymore in keeping him lucid. The few rare times he walks out of his lab he's unlucky enough to run into M, though he ignores the silver haired demon. 

He doesn't have the time for petty arguments. What he wants to do is risky.

Only a mad demon would go with it. It's a suicide, but he's prepared for it. He'd do it, even if the chance of bringing Raizel back is _ so _ slim. Nothing else matters for him anymore.

And when one of his palace contacts shares the newest rumor of the future diplomatic visit from Heaven, his plan is set in motion. Even with too many moving parts and uncertainty.

Any accidental victims are means to the end.

The crystal, he already has it. The necklace, he has to find it. Hopefully it is left where he thinks it should be. The ashes... Mephisto should have some of them, clinging to pieces of Raizel. 

And Mephisto himself. 

Stein's startled snicker is full of anguish when he thinks of the most important component of the plan. So much will depend on how M will work. Without any knowledge of  _ what _ he is doing.

He doesn't tell Mephisto what he's planning and chooses to keep him in the dark. It's necessary, he tells himself. Lucifer's too clever, Stein can’t let M into the plan and hope for the best – Stein's sure the Fallen would see through M's lies as soon as he'd be able to. 

It's crucial for the plan to work to leave M oblivious, have any of his reactions to be authentic. Leave Stein open doors to act later. 

It's the  _ only  _ way for it to work.


	6. Eternal

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Double update? Yes! M's pov is back, enjoy ∠( ᐛ 」∠)＿
> 
> Chapter mini playlist: Eternal Eclipse - Born from Ashes and Revolution

M spent first weeks with Lucifer _correcting_ his ways.

It was unnerving, how Lucifer acted around him. M was sure he forgot the crawling dread, numbed by Raizel's death, but being near Lucifer rushed all of the buried memories and emotions up to the surface.

Any pain, he can handle, he knows it. But it seemed Lucifer upped his tactics and acted almost indifferent around him, ignoring him most of the time, but M had the feeling of eyes following his every move. It was much worse than being in the centre of attention and direct scrutiny, because it made M being on constant alert. It was tiring and after some time, he felt his nerves frying. Lucifer was content with keeping him close, using him however he saw fit with even the most mundane tasks, like fetching him his favourite wine from the cellars to running errands. 

At first he rebelled, of course he did. He was unfairly kept against his will. Betrayed and thrown into servitude he thought he escaped. He kicked and screamed and refused to comply, writhing under the collar containing his powers.

But, even M's stubbornness wilted around Lucifer. 

M thought he was done with the living, that nothing mattered anymore, that he'd just perish under Lucifer's foot. The Ruler of Hell had different plans for him.

After Lucifer was done with re-teaching M the meaning of life with him, M stopped fighting. A very small part of M's soul sneered at his pathetic behaviour, whispering how weak and docile he became. And M agreed with it, though the trial Lucifer got him through awakened the most important, primal instinct in him – the will to live and _survive._

Survive what the Fallen throws at him, what he makes him to do, what he wants him to endure. Something in M broke and triggered that different response. Different from his desperate desire to chase revenge, no matter the cost. 

He thought Raizel's death was his darkest moment. Lucifer showed him he can go deeper than that, with the talent to twist and mold M's memories like he wished, playing with his emotions and watching him fall apart every time he brought M back to the present. Neatly resetting everything in place, as bringing M back from the false world increased M's pain greatly. 

One more too many times and M broke. 

But then, when he was left alone to lick his wounds in peace, on the edge of awareness and wishing to just flicker away, something like a caress appeared near his temple. A gentle whisper of a touch, the light tingle on his skin, the illusion so different than the cruel visions Lucifer created to torture him with. 

Half of a dream where M felt safe and whispers were telling him he didn't have to worry, because whatever presence was there with him, it'd keep him protected. In the sea of despair and pain, something so simple as a wild dream of a tortured mind kept him calm.

* * *

Often, he found some comfort in touching his necklace, the rose a soothing weight in his palm in rare moments of catching breath between his palace tasks.

He saw Stein on occasion, when the demon visited, without doubt working for the palace. Every time the rage grew in him and he wanted to maim the traitor, but the collar on his neck siphoned most of his power when it spiked too wildly. 

Keeping him contained.

He could only shout obscenities at Stein to his heart content, but it wasn't as satisfying. Though he told himself to be patient. 

He'll get him. 

Stein _will_ make a mistake, get too close, too sure of his status and M will be there to sink his claws in his chest and crush his heart, but not before he'll dangle it right before Stein's face.

Though, Stein didn't react much at M's hostility, keeping his distance and just watching him. Whenever they cross paths, Stein's gaze slides over him, like he searches for _something_ and it always stops at M's chest. M feels like he's examined for something he doesn't know and it makes him even more pissed off. That apparently he's a piece of some other sick experiment Stein seems to run and he's not even aware of it, is making his bottomless hatred for the other demon expand to another level. If only hate could kill, Stein would be very dead long time ago.

* * *

“Dignitaries from Heaven are visiting soon.” Lucifer says lazily one evening, lounging on his armchair when M's busy with slowly wiping the blood from his left middle wing. He's so focused on the task, mindful of not pulling the feathers and cleaning them the most efficiently, he's not sure he heard correctly at first.

Lucifer's golden eyes are assessing when he looks at him. M leans away with the bloodstained cloth, silver brows furrowed, the question at the tip of his tongue. Still, he keeps silent and resumes the cleaning after he soaks the cloth in water and brings it up to the wing again. 

Sometimes Lucifer just needs to talk without anyone interrupting, as he's doing now, swirling wine in the glass he's holding. The liquid almost spills from how it's close to the rim with one more forceful spin and the silence combined with Lucifer's unwavering look make M even more aware of his delicate task.

“One of the Archangels is coming to discuss new treaties. Of course, I want you to be present during their arrival.”

M nods slightly with murmured “Of course, my lord.”

“I don't have to say how important it is to my guests to feel most welcomed in my palace. After all, it's Zariel.”

M's fingers clench on the long black feather he's currently tending to and Lucifer hisses softly, but M's suddenly numb fingers already let go of it. 

Cold, cold stone crushes his chest and he can't breath, swaying on his knees. 

It's Lucifer's eyes and the feeling of heavy palm on his nape that keeps him up, when he feels like he's drowning. 

All because of that name. 

And whatever Lucifer's whispering to him at the moment is gone in a loud rush of blood in his ears.

* * *

It couldn't work, he knows that. 

He knows that flinging a flimsy parade sword, by some miracle yanked out from the sheath of nearby's guard, would do _nothing_ to the Archangel. 

And it did exactly that. 

Nothing. 

He attacked, because he had to. Wasn't that the plan all this time ago? To take on the one responsible for his love's death? He just couldn't stand here looking pretty, when Lucifer's _guest_ strolled in, looking like he owned the place, wearing such a familiar face.

M couldn't do anything, but throw himself in a flutter of leathery wings, claws clenched around the sword handle, meeting the Archangel head on with a snarl on his lips, silver fire in his eyes and restless buzz under his skin.

First chance he got.

Last chance he had.

At Lucifer's short bark, in a blink M's swarmed with guards, holding him down then up, as he hangs between them, with his arms suspended. Their hold on him is like an iron, unyielding and harsh and he doesn't trash like they'd expect him to. No, he's staring at the Archangel, muscles coiling like preparing for the next attack.

The short sword clangs heavily in the commotion. For a moment, the beautiful face of Archangel is twisted in a grimace.

“You thought to attack me with _that,_ ” he sneers, walking closer to M. Crimson eyes pin him in place and M's upper lip curls up with a threatening growl rising in his throat. 

He's not afraid anymore. 

He wants to tear into this face, make him suffer and bleed like he did to Raizel. Raizel's dead because of _him_. His own brother, looking so similar to Raizel, one could confuse them, if they didn't know them so intimately as M has known Raizel.

“You couldn't be serious.” He stops before M, still dangling in hold of guards. Unconsciously, M feels Lucifer stepping closer as well. 

“And what's this?” Zariel reaches for M's necklace, the rose pendant slipped out from his clothes during the shuffle. “It was his wasn't it,” in one sharp motion the silver chain snaps and M lurches forward with a cry when Zariel takes it, “It's not yours to have, _filthy demon_.”

M's helplessly watching as the Archangel pockets the necklace, hearing snippets of his casual talk to Lucifer about his “ _pet’s behaviour”_ through the noise of his pounding heart, feeling the increasing pressure on his neck, when he's unceremoniously dropped to his knees and guards step back.

He's waiting for the inevitable bite of Lucifer's magic, a public punishment for attacking his extinguished guest.

Though, as _it_ happens, he doesn't have the time to even think, when someone barrels between M and Zariel, Stein's unnaturally pale face and wide black blue eyes flickering for a moment in M’s line of sight, before he moves, unnaturally fast.

Even Zariel doesn't react on time when Stein thrusts something, _a crystal,_ into Zariel's chest and M's jaw drops when it pierces the Archangel's ceremonial armor and most likely skin, if Zariel's pained gasp and gold quickly staining his white robes is any indication.

Stein's pushing the crystal with all his weight and it gets a pained grunt from Zariel, but the Archangel seems to shake from any haze he was so far and in a short burst of light his angel sword materializes, easily impaling the attacking demon, just under his heart. Stein grunts and M sees the strain in his shoulders, the spasm of his wings when he steps further in one sharp motion, the bloody tip of Zariel's sword sticking out from between his wings with sickening squelch. 

Zariel's eyes widen and he tries to take a step back, but Stein seems to clutch onto him too strongly, murmuring words under his wheezing breath. Zariel's expression changes from surprised to outraged to fearful, when he lets go of his weapon, white robes messy with gold and demon red blood and starts to paw at his chest, where the crystal seems to glow. 

“No, no! It can't be- _you're dead!_ No!” Enraged growl turns into a choked scream, when the Archangel stumbles back and folds in half, uselessly clawing at his sternum and the gold stains his hands, spreading like a liquid, eating at his skin, coloring his six wings to their tips until white is gold, until he's like a golden statue himself, until his cry is suddenly cut off.

M's watching all of this with wide eyes and trembling hands, barely breathing, barely aware of others around him. Stein drops to his side heavily, and M sees the red pool under his body growing, one of his arms stretched towards Zariel like he wants to reach, shaking fingers yearning to close onto something he can't reach.

Lucifer's still behind M, just watching what unfolds, mixed audience of both demons and angels _just watching,_ when murmurs and first outraged cries are heard, the commotion starting to raise and guards are shifting on their spots.

And when the noise starts to raise, Zariel moves, his wings first to shudder, like he's shaking off some unpleasant feeling. The gold starts to peel off, golden flakes falling to the floor and M has to squeeze his eyes shut before he opens them again. 

Zariel's wings are _black._

They're black and M's gaze hungrily follows the split of gold falling off the Archangel and M's breath is stuck in his throat as his claws dig in his fisted palms.

The Archangel moves and the last of the gold sticking to his skin falls off.

And when he turns his crimson gaze on M, it's _not_ Zariel he's looking at. 

This soft smile, M would have to be dead not to know the person behind it.

Something hot pricks at the corners of his eyes and the tears just fall down his face as M sliently mouths Raizel's name.

Lucifer growls something behind him and starts to stalk towards Raizel, but one cold look from the Fallen has the Ruler of Hell stopping in his tracks.

M watches as Raizel kneels near Stein, not paying attention to the blood under him and gently tilts Stein's face cupping it in one hand.

“Your sacrifice won't be forgotten, Stein.” Raizel's soft whisper carries in the chamber like he'd shout it. He lays his other hand on Stein's chest, and the unnaturally fast intakes of breath stop in one long exhale. 

Raizel leans forward, lips brushing blonde curls. “Thank you.” 

Stein's body goes limp, his bloodied fingers slipping from Raizel's wrist where he kept his hold on the Fallen.

M keeps watching as Raizel gently lays down Stein's head, mindful of keeping his ashen face off the floor. 

“Give him back to me.” Raizel says as he straightens to his full height, black wings spread at his back, crimson eyes at Lucifer.

“Give Mephisto his freedom back.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And? Was it a big surprise what happened or maybe not? Please, do let me know ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ


	7. Fate

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back with gifts (｡•̀ᴗ-)✧
> 
> Mini playlist for the chapter - Eternal Eclipse: Dirt&Fire and The Ritual

The silence is deafening.

It seems everyone is holding their breath. 

No one moves. They're watching, carefully and hungrily. All eyes are on two Fallen measuring each other with all of their black wings spread widely, M nearly in between them. Still on his knees, leathery wings flattened weakly on the floor. Hands shaking, tears slowly drying, silver eyes barely believing what they're seeing. 

Because he's looking at Raizel, sight blurry, breath unsteady, heart pounding erratically. He's cold. He's hot. He doesn't know what's happening anymore. 

But it's Raizel.

Raizel, who stands there in all his former glory, uninjured, back straight and proud. His white robes are stained with gold and red blood, torn where the crystal pierced his, no, _Zariel's_ , chest. Despite this, he still looks noble. Solid and ethereal, like he always did to M. He wants to get up and touch him, to make sure he's real. That he's back and it isn't one of Lucifer's crafty ways to torture him. He's not sure he'll be able to gather the pieces if the illusion would shatter now. 

Just as M tries to move himself to stand on wobbly legs, something yanks at his collar and he stumbles back, wings flailing, hands going up to claw at the thing on his throat choking him. Raizel's gaze snaps to his, crimson eyes wide then narrowing at the Fallen behind M, Lucifer's palm curling at M's nape, tangling in his hair. The tips of his talons rake M's skin unpleasantly. The touch is rough, holding him in place as he tries to shy away from the iron grip. His soft growl ends in whimper, when the collar tightens once again, Lucifer's body almost plastered to his side, M's wings squished at his back to the side. Up close the smell of ozone and rosewood is overwhelming, as Lucifer leans very close to M's face, gold gleaming eyes watching Raizel. 

“Lucifer.” Raizel's voice is low as he steps towards them, but stops when Lucifer's other hand lays on M's chest. Widely splayed fingers dig into the fabric of M's tunic, tips of his talons easily making holes when they rest on M's skin, nicking, little pinpricks of blood soaking through the material. M goes completely still, hiss of pain caught in, as he's busy gulping air through suddenly loose hold on his throat. He looks at Raizel with wide eyes, pleadingly, as he swallows, calling for him without words.

“Lucifer.” Raizel starts again, shifting closer but stopping again, as Lucifer's palm on M's sternum shifts as well, pushing a bit harder and M bites back his lip to hold in a whimper. 

Raizel's black wings drop a bit, both of his hands open in placating manner.

“Give Mephisto his freedom back. After all, I'm alive, aren't I?” he speaks slowly, but clearly, the sound of his voice carrying through the chamber for everyone to hear.

Cold smile slowly appears on Lucifer's lips.

“You cost me a very great deal and now you want one of my best servants back? I don't think so.”

“Our agreement still stands. I am alive and I demand you give Mephisto back his freedom.”

Lucifer scoffs, his warm breath tickling M's temple, as he almost nuzzles into silver hair, seemingly calm and despite the nerves flying high, M notices the subtle change in Lucifer's stance and aura. Something is coming, something dangerous and heavy. 

“I bore of this. You come and go as you please, and expect the rules to stay the same?” Claws run down on M's chest, and he cries out and jerks at sudden pain, twisting away from the iron grip. Blood drips from Lucifer's fingers when he brings them up to lazily lap at the tip of one talon, “Rules change with _death._ ”

Raizel scowls at the display, chin tilting down, mouth in flat line. M blinks through the tears of pain in his eyes, reaching towards him with one hand, “Rai- plea... se...”

Raizel's expression changes in an instant, the shadow of worried agony on his face quickly wiped with determined fury. M tries to fight back when the oppressive weight of the collar seems to pull him down, suddenly seeping out his magic, energy, lifeforce with much greater speed than it has done before.

“You won't touch him again.” Raizel whispers harshly. “You will let him go.”

“Will I.” Lucifer mocks, standing his ground as Raizel nears.

“Yes, you _will._ ” There's power in Raizel's words and Lucifer's grip on M's neck tightens, the collar impossibly taut and almost crushing his throat, his scream cut off and his vision blurs, black spots dancing before his eyes and he _fights_ , trashes, claws at the arms holding him, desperately trying to free himself.

He doesn't see it, can't see it, but Raizel moves suddenly, fast and frightening in his silent fury. 

Lucifer doesn't expect that, not when M's life is literally in his hands. Raizel's truly precise with using his _word_ of power, one of three still at his disposal. The King of Hell is forced to drop M to avoid being hit directly, but the energy of the _word_ brushes his skin and he nearly collapses back. He skids folded in half with arms stretched out to the floor, deep scratches of his talons on the marble under his feet. All of his black wings are stretched wide for balance, and when he looks back at Raizel, his narrowed golden eyes scream murder.

M's in Raizel's arms before his mind registers it and he trembles, swallowing a sob when Raizel's _smell, warmth, touch_ surround him.

_Comforting, safe, home._

If he could burrow in it, he would, but right now he just clings to Raizel's clothes, dimly aware of the danger still lurking out of Raizel's arms.

“He wouldn't help you coming back.” M hears Raizel saying, his strong voice a pleasant sound under his ear.

“And how do you know that.” Lucifer sneers, nearly growling and M risks glancing back at him. 

“It's not possible to go back when you Fall, Lucifer, you know that. Whatever Zariel promised you, it wouldn't help.”

“If I had the chance to face the God-” 

“And do what, _negotiate_?!” Raizel snaps and M jerks a little at the harsh tone. “You'd want to negotiate with _God's will, Lucifer?_ ”

“They'd have to listen to me, They listened to me once, to _all of us!_ ” Lucifer shouts, his composition crumbling, anger twisting his beautiful features.

“You know the truth about Them.” Raizel says softly, the hush of their audience making it easier for his voice to carry.

“You know it, you felt it when they-”

_Left. When they left and angels had to go on without Them, their creator._

Raizel doesn't say it out loud, aware of others still gathered in the chamber, thirsty for every word and bit of information they could use for their own gain. Aware of the frail balance between open war with Heaven and Hell and keeping the status quo. 

Heaven's Council and Hell's Ruler. Only them and high ranking angels knew the truth of God's abandoned throne. If it'd be public knowledge, it'd be catastrophic. Something in which both sides would lose too much to let it happen.

Lucifer doesn't answer, his gaze dark and heavy as he straightens to his full height, six black wings spread behind them. As dishevelled and thunderous he seems at the moment, he’s still a sight to behold. M warily eyes him when he wordlessly snaps his fingers and M gasps, clinging to Raizel when the collar on his throat vanishes. He blinks rapidly in disbelief and feels as Raizel’s arms tighten around him helping him stand properly. Still, he doesn’t dare to let his gaze slip from Lucifer, suspiciously eyeing the suddenly calm Fallen. 

“From this moment, I cast you both out from Hell. _Get out of my sight._ ” Lucifer all but growls, gaze murderous, but keeping still. “All of you, out!” He snaps at the audience and some of the gathered cry in an outrage, demanding explanations, but M doesn't care about them. Not when Raizel’s hold on him steers him to the nearest large window, not when he coaxes him with gentle but firm touch, voice serious.

“We need to be quick or we’ll be overwhelmed in seconds.” 

M glances back over their wings and yes, he sees what Raizel has in mind as he notices many hungry eyes tracking all their movements, some shifting with their demonic powers as they prepare to take after them. Now, when they lost their status with Lucifer, they’re fair prey for whoever gets them first and M feels a sudden spike of determination to not let that happen. He meets Raizel’s eyes and nods, mouth set in a thin line.

“I’ll go wherever you go.”

Crimson gaze softens for a moment and M feels warmth spilling from the top of his head, Raizel’s genuine smile reviving his soul. He grabs his hand and they leap together, easily breaking through the decorative glass and taking off into a reddened sky.

There’s a commotion behind them, snarls and shouts lost in roar of wind in their ears, powerful flaps of Raizel’s wings steering them both in a direction only he knows about and M feels light, mad grin splitting his face and Raizel’s hand squeezes his tightly when their eyes lock. Raizel lips stretch up, smile full of teeth and _promise_ and M laughs.

Then, Raizel grabs at him and turns him, hugging him to his chest, their mouths colliding in a bruising kiss, but it’s the thing M has been craving from the moment he saw him again. So he licks and bites and Raizel does the same, not caring that they’re falling, both of them tangled in each other. M’s soul soars, all the longing, sorrow and despair vanishing. He feels Raizel’s smile and he doesn’t care if they're about to crash, as long as they do it _together._

But before they meet the earth, a portal opens and they’re bathed in gold and white. M closes his eyes, Raizel’s arms around him and he lets himself be carried through the light. 

It doesn’t matter where they go. He trusts Raizel to keep them safe and he’ll do _everything_ in his power to do the same.

As long as he’s with Raizel, he’s at _home_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that wraps the story up. Thanks for all of you who read it, I always like to hear your thoughts, spare some? Some of them can be an inspiration for other au's (or sequels, who knows) ∠( ᐛ 」∠)＿


	8. Epilogue: Earth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Little Summer Special in this (usually) gloomy AU? I thought, why not, the idea didn't want to leave until I wrote it down. Enjoy! (｡•̀ᴗ-)✧

He tilts his head back and the dull pain of it colliding with the wall makes a hiss leave his lips.

He leans a little to the side and spits, tongue going slowly over his teeth, the taste of copper rich in his mouth. The cut on the inside of his cheek is still bleeding. He heaves himself up with a grunt, exhaling harshly through his nose as his ribs protest with the movement. Silver hair goes to his eyes and he runs his hand through it, keeping it out of his vision. It’s back to obscuring his sight in a moment and he huffs, irritated, spitting blood again, just as his palm finds the support on the wall. He breathes slowly for a while, glancing at the bodies strewn close. Some of them moan quietly, some are knocked out. He was careful not to break them permanently, aware of their fragility. Besides, Raizel would be mad he’s killing humans, even if it were them who attacked him. Five on one is hardly fair, he’d say, but he managed. Somehow. 

Having his powers sealed like he does when they’re on Earth is like an itch he can’t scratch without breaking the skin and bleeding out. He understands the necessity, but it is annoying being underestimated like he is sometimes, just because he can’t blast away anyone bothering him with a thought.

Still, they got what they wanted, lived to tell the tale and if any of them have a concussion, it’s not his problem. He knows the blond haired annoyance is behind this little attack on his person. He swears it’s a curse they crossed paths again. 

_Stein._

Of all the places on Earth, this is the city he had to re-spawn and stumble back into their lives.

The irony isn’t lost on M.

After travelling through different planes they decided to stay on Earth for longer, moving from place to place, and then Raizel opened a small flower shop in one of bigger cities with M helping him as a delivery man.

Their powers had to be sealed, their forms appearing completely human. To avoid being detected by both angels and demons they had to stop using their abilities. Even a little leak would have eyes on them, so Raizel’s way of containing his essence are specially enchanted earring and ring, while M depended on his own will, refusing to wear a collar of any sort, be it a necklace or armband. He doesn’t want anymore power suppressing things on his body if he can help it, and he’s able to keep his temper in check when it comes to not busting their cover.

Everything was fine for few years. And then a tall, elegant blonde man in a tailored suit and shoes that cost more than half of Raizel’s shop happened. 

_Francis Roche._

M would recognize this aura everywhere, and as soon as it appeared, he almost ran from the back of the shop where he was doing maintenance. Raizel only stiffened lightly, meeting blue eyes, offering his attention to the man.

Apparently, it was love at first sight. 

Stein, or _Francis,_ as his human name is now, started to flirt with Raizel as soon as he got his eyes on him, heavy charm and pretty words, leaving behind a generous tip and the card with his personal number. After that, he became a regular customer, swinging by everytime he was in the area and didn't stop hitting on Raizel, suggesting meetings for coffee or dinner. Even going as far as proposing a business contract on big flower delivery to his office, as he suddenly got an idea Raizel’s little florist’s shop would be perfect for it. 

Raizel’s countless diplomatic refusals to the meetings didn’t go through his thick skull, it seemed.

The look on his face when it was M not Raizel making the delivery was priceless, but Francis composed himself quickly enough to mask his seething with a polite mask, one M didn’t trust one bit. And he was wise to do so, because Francis found a lot of mistakes in the way M delivered his flowers and used it to complain to Raizel. Making M’s blood boil.

Raizel shrugged off M’s grumbling at Stein’s behaviour, “He’s only human. Can’t really compete with you.” It placated him for a moment.

A human that runs business on the front and completely different thing on the back, as M found out. It figures he’s some kind of mob boss.

Then some suspicious people started tailing him and one day after he was going back from the delivery, they blocked his way. After he was done with them, he got a better look at them, growling when he recognized one of them as Francis’ men. He told Raizel what happened, the man shaking his head. “Just be careful to not kill them next time.” Because both of them knew there _would_ be next time

He wants to rub it on Stein’s face, that Raizel is his, _always_ has been and always _will be_ , every time he sees the man. Tell him he never had the chance even in his previous life, but as supernaturals aren’t a rare sight in their neighbourhood, there’s a reason they’re not in the open and telling Stein about his past as a demon would get him in trouble with Raizel. Not worth the petty revenge of messing with the weak mind of a human.

One of the goons tries to grab at his ankle when he walks by and he kicks his hand off him, stomping at the limb. The man cries sharply out in pain, the bones of his fingers grinding with the dirt of an alley and M scowls at the broken form, whatever satisfaction he felt upon beating them down long gone.

He slowly bends down to get his leather jacket from the floor, dusts it off as best as he can and turns on his heel, limping away from the area.

* * *

He has to ring a bell to get in, as he can’t find his keys. Must have lost them in the scruffle, and he holds his breath, waiting. When Raizel opens the door to their apartament, he takes a moment to look him over, a shadow of displeasure on his beautiful face. He sighs and steps back, allowing him entrance, wordlessly going to the bathroom and M’s shoulders slump. He takes off his shoes, only leaning for support on the wall once, silently cursing the pull on his side. Grimaces at his look in the mirror, busted lip and bruised temple the only visible wounds. He’s glad it’s already dark, because the bloody stains on his white shirt would get him in trouble.

He stares at himself for a moment longer, tongue gently prodding at the cut on his lip, tasting iron and follows Raizel to the bathroom. 

Raizel’s back is turned to him, wringing the towel in the washbasin, his moves clipped. 

“I didn’t kill anyone.” M grumbles, getting a whiff of Raizel’s scent as he drapes himself over his back. Raizel doesn’t stop what he’s doing despite additional weight, the movements of his shoulders jolting M and he hisses when one of his elbows catch on his ribs. Raizel doesn’t say anything, glancing back at him with an unamused brow raised, and he steps away with a pout, massaging his side. 

“Sit down.” Raizel turns, first aid kit open on the counter, wet towel in his hand and M complies, perching on the edge of the tub.

Raizel’s fingers are gentle yet firm when he cups his jaw, tilting his head this or that way. Deep brown eyes examine the bruises on his face, a small wrinkle between his brows. He carefully runs the cloth over M’s face, collecting the grime and blood. M doesn’t try to speak, just looks at him and tries to hold in a _pathetic_ whimper, when Raizel dabs the cut on his lip with cotton dripping with antiseptic. The hold on his jaw tightens for a moment when he jerks away, the dangerous glint in Raizel’s eyes keeping him in place more than his touch and he swallows, feeling the incoming scolding.

“Shower then come to bed, I’ll apply this on your side,” Raizel holds a small tube of salve and retreats from the bathroom. M sulks for a moment in silence, staring into space Raizel occupied just seconds ago.

He peels off his clothes leaving it on the floor, holding in a groan only few times when the beaten muscles pull at his movements and slowly goes with his routine, scrubbing at his hair with one hand.

* * *

“I could heal in a second.” He murmurs, already knowing it’s impossible. He’s lying on his back, purposely not looking at Raizel beside him. He’s ignoring him after he refused to have sex with him after he finished rubbing the oinment at his skin. The light touch and the close proximity of his beloved made him horny, but no amount of pleading and insistent grabby hands would make Raizel’s resolve waver when his mind was set on something. 

“Your body has to rest, you’ll only strain it more.” Raizel said and it was the end of it. Not that M is happy with it, even if he’s aware Raizel’s right. Human’s bodies are so fragile it’s ridiculous. Barely a scratch for a demon can kill it, and with their powers sealed tight, their forms are so human it hurts his ego. He’s glad he still can pack a punch fast enough for most unsuspecting idiots that dare to cross him.

Oh, how he’d like to punch one blonde pest straight at his perfect nose. Or snap his neck and be rid of him for good. He’s as irritating as his demon counterpart, and M wonders how it’s possible that his soul hasn’t changed a bit even if his body had. 

Of all the places, this is where Stein had to appear and have his hard on for Raizel. Even if he doesn’t remember any of his life from before. M’s cursed, he’s sure of it.

His brooding is interrupted by Raizel’s hand on his chest and he startles a bit, eyes snapping to Raizel’s own. His gaze is heavy, just as his touch is, but patient, as he slowly leans over M. Raizel’s hair tickle M’s skin when the long black strands fall from his loose ponytail. Brown eyes peer into his, the flecks of ruby visible up close and M tilts his chin up, holding the intense gaze. He can feel them, silent emotions swirling in those eyes, the bond between them simmering under the thin layer of their bodies. 

“I’d gladly take you until you’re a whimpering mess of need under my hands.” 

Desire licks at his spine and he wants to move up to catch Raizel’s mouth with his own, but the palm on his chest stops him. Raizel tilts his head as in curiosity when a noise leaves M’s throat, something between growl and whine. His eyes narrow when a wicked smile stretches his lips, an unusual sight on Raizel’s often serene face. 

Mischievous Raizel is a beautiful view, M thinks as Raizel leans down, their mouths almost brushing and M’s lips part, tongue darting to lick his suddenly dry skin. M angles his head up, not breaking eye contact until he can’t focus his sight without going cross-eyed, silently pleading for Raizel to do _something_. Though he wouldn’t put it past him to tease him just because it’s something M would let him to do.

And as he’s sure Raizel will finally kiss him, he backs away and sits up beside M, looking down at the blush spreading on M’s face. 

“Later.” There’s a promise in his voice and M knows it’d be worth the wait. Still, he can’t help the huff and his fingers wrap around Raizel’s wrist as he reaches for M’s strands. He nuzzles at the skin, gently nipping.

“I don’t like the way he’s looking at you.” His lips brush Raizel’s knuckles, the cool surface of silver band on his finger fogging under his mouth. “Maybe a matching ring would make him back off.”

“If you wish for one, I’d be delighted to create it for you.”

M hums when he releases Raizel’s hand and he starts to run his fingers through his hair, M’s eyes closing in pleasure. 

“I was thinking of changing the place soon.” M opens one eye briefly.

“Got bored with this city?” He murmurs and gets a glimpse of Raizel’s thoughts. Of vast space with lush flora, as well as sparkling blue water. Open skies. Deserts and forests and valleys.

“Another plane perhaps? Somewhere we could use our powers without the fear of being discovered.” Warm lips brush his forehead and M smiles, eyes closed, blindly reaching for Raizel and he carefully sets M in his arms. “I know you miss feeling like yourself again. I do too.”

Raizel’s scent surrounds him as he hides his face in the crook of his neck, inhaling deeply. “I want to fly again. I want to race you and spar. I want to hunt.” He wraps his arms around Raizel’s back. “I want to stop being so fragile.”

There’s a hand on his nape, squeezing gently then rubbing the spot between his shoulder blades where his wings would be. He wiggles, the low-key pleasure stirring low in his stomach and does the same for Raizel, lips curling up at the hitch in his breath. 

“We’re leaving Earth as soon as I’m done with summoning the portal.”


End file.
